The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy
by inhonoredglory
Summary: It's not every kid who can save Hogan's operation.
1. Part, the First

a/n: Written in response to a great song first-lines challenge by Canadian Hogan's Fan and me. We chose from a list of song titles to introduce a story. I chose the song title "In Your Dreams." It's not a completed piece, so I hope I can keep up with chapter updates!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

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><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the First ::

In your dreams, anything can happen. I know, I know, you told me. In your dreams, you conquer the world and live like a king. Ha! In my dream, I was a spy. You know I've always wanted to be a spy. The kind in pictures, of course. But that goes without saying... Anyway, I ought to explain to you, that now my dream came true! No fooling. I was a spy.

It started with Uncle Klein, the one with the peaked hat. Of course. You know he's one of those big shots in the government. Papa calls him "top brass." Funny, because we keep our brass on the mantlepiece, and I never saw him on top of any of it.

Anyway...

You know I don't know a whit about what's going on in the world today. After all, says Mama, I'm only ten and a half. Well! If one must be a spy, one must know at least _something_ about the world's goings-on. So like any good spy I raided Papa's briefcase and office and tried to make heads and tails of what the blazes was going on.

Oh, I forgot about Uncle. Well, that's going to have to wait. First, I have to tell you about Papa's briefcase. Or more, about a letter he wrote to a friend of his. _That_ finally cleared the air somewhat. You know, I could never understand why the papers he had which were marked "Top Secret" were marked "Top Secret." The insides were so convoluted and small-printed, no one with a decent pair of eyes could read it. Well, there were pictures, so I guess that helped. Boring pictures, of course. Fuzzy shots of random people. But anyway...

Papa's letter. Seems like our, what he called, "political situation" was, what he called, "dire." Now I take that to mean bad, really bad, because later on, he mentioned something about sabotaging Uncle's mission for "the Fuhrer." Now I think I know what "Fuhrer" means. I know you'd figure it out, but I think that's another name for the political leader we have, the one who shakes hands with everybody in the pictures – the biggest shot, I guess.

Well, Papa wrote that he knew something about something (I forget the wording; it's all so grown-up, you know), and that he would do something when Uncle brings him along on a trip the latter was taking. Papa's in the police, you know; he gets to wear those spiffy black outfits with the big belt and tie and the drawing on the arm. Mama always cringes when he puts it on in the morning, so I cringe, too. I've yet to ask her why.

But back to the point! Papa got Uncle to bring him along on the trip. Now, things were pretty uptight around the house by now. Mama put me to bed earlier and earlier and things were happening downstairs constantly. So like any good spy, I put my ear to the floor or peeked down the stairs to observe the goings-on. Seemed like my parents were meeting some local townspeople. They said they were underground for almost a year. My, but they looked pretty clean for having burrowed in the dirt for so long.

But anyway...

Now I ought to mention that Uncle isn't _really_ my uncle. He was just a good friend of Papa before Papa had to wear the black outfit (you know, when he wore that boring old brown thing in the printer's shop and got dust all over him all the time). Now Uncle got Papa the job he has now, so they work pretty close. Uncle hasn't been having dinner with us recently, though. I find that odd, but maybe it's because the two of them are together almost all the time anyway. I think that's Papa's job – to be with Uncle.

So when I said it all started with Uncle, I meant it. Papa got a call telling him that they'd be leaving for a prison camp the next day. Mama was frantic. I'm sure there was something much more than a simple trip involved. So like a good spy, I kept my ear to the door of my room and listened.

"You'll have to come with me," Papa was saying.

"Won't it be suspicious?"

"Take our car and go to Hammelberg tomorrow. I'll be in his car, remember? It'll be safe."

"How will I know you have everything ready?"

A pause.

"You'll be guarding him all the time," Mama pressed.

Nothing was said anymore that night. I think Papa was thinking. The next morning, Mama had packed all my clothes and almost burst her suitcase with dresses of her own. I know Papa used to say women were a pain, and I guess I could see that now. Dragging that bag down the hall was worse than math class. Luckily, she took it the rest of the way to the car.

Speaking of math class, Mama pulled me out of school that day. Nifty, huh?

But then Mama explained that Papa had gone with Uncle to the prison already.

"Before I woke up?" I asked.

"Yes, honey, early in the morning. But we'll catch up with him soon. See, I packed your bags? We're leaving today."

So we packed ourselves into Papa's old brown car and went off down the big road. I was reading _Emil and the Detectives_, so I can't explain much about what the road looked like or anything like that, but I can tell you that Emil sure inspired me to be a great spy!

Then Mama announced we were here. We unpacked at a big hotel. Mama was so tired that she took a nap right away. Now let me go slowly, because things got interesting from here on out.

So Mama was napping. I was wide awake. She'd told me to have some fun, like she did before. At home, that often meant playing ball on the street below or exploring the shops. Well, I took that opportunity and ran! Quite literally. But I left a little note in case I was late, telling her where I'd most likely be.

So first thing first, I went to find where Papa went, because, besides being with Papa obviously, I would also get closer to the goings-on I was sure to encounter.

Now this of course is where the spy stuff happens.

I asked for the location of the nearest prison, like a right good gentleman – and got weird looks. So I asked a little boy not much bigger than I. He pointed me in the right direction.

Now, I have to catch my breath a bit. You'll wait for my story, _ja_? I won't be long.


	2. Part, the Second

a/n: Thank you for your comments everyone! I really appreciate every one.  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

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><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Second ::

So, like I said, this is where the spy stuff happens. It took me a while to get to the prison camp, but between the walking and the hitching rides, it really didn't take too long. The last ride was a truck filled with barking dogs. It brought me right up to the place, and – my oh my – right _into_ it! Luckily, I hitched the ride surreptitiously. (I hope I spelled that right; I just learned that word recently! From a man named Peter, but I'll have to tell you about him later. All in order, you know.) So anyway, I rode on top of this truck of dogs. And, guess what! This truck was _not_ full of dogs, but people! And the driver was letting them get out and sneak into a hole in the ground. The trapdoor was shaped like a dog house. And all this setup was in a dog pen. Amazing. So I figured this was a perfect place to learn about spying.

To try some on myself, I jumped off the top of the truck and tried to get in line with the crowd. Like a good spy, I copied the masses and hunched my shoulders, bent down, and hurried towards the doghouse. Apparently, I needed more training, because the little man holding up the doghouse stared at me forever with his mouth hanging open, then squealed under his breath. I think it was supposed to be a gasp.

I slipped on by him, but before I could jump down the ladder, he grabbed me.

"_Merde_!" he exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" I broke free of his arm.

"Just get in the tunnel." He pushed me into the hole in the ground.

Poof, I thought. My cover had been blown.

Inside, there was the most incredible underground interior I've ever seen. Of course, I've never seen one before. But it was clean. I guess that's how those locals my parents had met had kept so neat-looking. This wasn't bad. There were burning oil lamps and braces on the walls, even tables and chairs, and a big setup in one corner.

No one had seen me drop in; there was too much commotion with the people who'd come in the truck. So I figured I'd build my cover again and hide out in a nice dark corner. I figured I should think about my situation, about whose side these fellows were on. After all, spies are always working for one side or the other.

That's when I realized I still wasn't so up and up about the international situation to be able to figure this thing out. So here was I, in the middle of the greatest spy undertaking of my life, and I didn't know what to do. But so you won't think I'm such a dummkoph, I did have a plan. And that was to listen. After all, spies don't know _everything._ That's what they're spies for.

So I listened.

That's when I realized all the people who'd come in the truck were actually the local townsfolk my parents had been visiting with before. My, the plot thickens, I thought. Maybe it's all not too difficult to understand.

The townspeople had a sort of leader figure, a tall man with a mustache, who went and talked with what looked like the leader figure of this underground bunch.

"This all of you?" said the latter man, as he crossed his arms.

"_Oui_," said the former. "How soon will you be able to get us all out?"

"That's going to be a problem."

"Why?"

"Well, first of all, you gave us zero notice-"

"But we had to keep radio silence. He would have-"

"I understand. That's not the main thing. Major Klein is here. And, yes, I think he was expecting you. He's going to wait until we make a move – then arrest us all."

"So you can't get us out, then?"

"Not yet. Not until we get Klein out anyway."

Suddenly, the man with the red scarf appeared to my right. "Who are you?" he whispered to me.

"I'm a spy," I whispered back, intentionally irritated.

He looked terribly upset. "What made you come here?"

I considered whether I should answer that.

"Do you know where you are?"

"A prison camp," I answered cautiously.

The little man scooped me up in his arms and placed me in the middle of the room. "_Colonel_, look who came through with the truck."

A bunch of questioning eyes peered down at me. I felt like crying. But spies don't cry. "I'm a spy!" I said, closing my eyes so as not to see the glares.

Someone kneeled down to my level and held my shoulders. I opened my eyes. It was the leader of the underground people. He was wearing a neat cap and a soft brown jacket like Papa used to wear on picnics in the field. In fact, he looked a little like Papa, at least the dark hair anyway. I calmed down a bit and smiled.

"How did you get here?" he asked. "What's your name?"

I wondered if a spy should give his name. I had yet to figure out what side these people were on. I thought about Papa's letter and the secret trip and wondered how spies can bear all the confusion.

"Are you a spy?" I asked.

He set me down on his knee. "Listen, sonny, I'll answer that question if you can answer one for me. Now, who are your parents?"

I scrunched my face. I didn't want to tell. Do spies tell? Then I looked into his big brown eyes and smiled. "Papa looks just like you!" _Papa_. Oops, I forgot to find him. I jumped off his knee. "I forgot about Papa! I've got to tell him I'm here." I looked around for the ladder I came up from.

"Now, just calm down, kid," the man who looked like Papa said, scooping me up. "Where is your dad?"

I felt like crying again. Mama was probably worried about me – with no word from Papa about me. I thought about Emil and knew he'd never do such a thing to his mama. "I've been a bad boy," I shrieked. "Papa's up there somewhere with Uncle Klein."

The man almost dropped me. I held on tight.

"Uh, who did you say was your uncle?" His big brown eyes looked into mine, a grown-up-ness crowding into them.

"Well, he's not really my uncle. Papa just works for him."

I think that kind of scared the poor guy.


	3. Part, the Third

a/n: Again, I appreciate all comments and support! Keep 'em coming!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

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><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Third ::

All right! I'm back. So where was I? Oh, right. Papa's lookalike was growing more and more worried looking. He set me down on a chair in the corner of the room (right next to the big setup!) and took my shoulders firmly. I wondered what I'd done wrong, but I was glad he didn't take his belt off.

"Listen," he said. "It's very important that you tell me who your parents are and why – and how – you came here. Can you do that for me?"

I looked around. Everyone was looking at me. This was it! It was time for me to stand up and be brave – like a good spy. So I asked, "What side are you on? Spies don't tell just anything to the other side."

"Papa" looked away and said something to the people behind him. "Newkirk, check the tunnel and emergency exit. LeBeau, go up and take a look around. Kinch, get to the coffee pot. Tell me what the—" He looked at me. "—just what in the world is going on." He sighed. "Sonny, I don't think you know what you're getting into. I can't tell you anything until I know who you are."

"Are you a spy, too?" I ventured. He sure acted in that confusing way – like the "Top Secret" files I saw. Maybe I ought to be friends with him, so I could learn a thing or two. Then I saw three people go to a certain dark corner and climb a ladder up past the tunnel walls. So there _was_ another way out!

"Can I go up with them?" I asked.

"Listen, kid, you're going to stay right here until they come back." He sure sounded severe.

I made a face. "Ooooh, okay." I slumped back on the chair. The setup to my left was absolutely fascinating – all sorts of wires and trinkets. Maybe if I pressed this lever...

He grabbed by hand suddenly. His eyes were hard for a moment, then he sighed, took me in his arms again, and looked around the people in the room. "Anybody here knows how to handle a kid?" he asked.

"Here, let me," said a woman in the corner. She looked like my aunt (a real aunt) from Berlin. I didn't like my aunt. She always kept the cookie jar up on a high shelf and always gave Mama a hard time. No, I liked Papa. I kept my grip tight in his arms. "I'm not going anywhere!" I declared. It was my turn to be impudent (don't I got a fabulous vocabulary?).

Anyway, I think I must have gotten him upset. He put me down and gave me a stern look. I could feel a lecture coming.

Then the man in the red scarf came down the ladder. "_Mon colonel_, he's coming here – Major Klein."

Suddenly I remembered Papa. I rushed towards the ladder, right behind Papa's lookalike. I think he wasn't thinking about me at the moment, because he jumped up the ladder so quickly, it was like the end of the world. Seems like everyone was frazzled by the thought of Uncle's arrival. I wondered why. Nobody paid any attention to me. But, really, as a spy, I didn't have a problem with that. In fact, that was good.

So I followed "Papa" up the ladder and jumped out into an odd compartment. It looked like a cabin in the mountains Papa took me to once. So many beds here! Though judging by the amount of puff on them, I'd probably rather call them tables.

Anyway...

The man was rushing everyone onto the table in the middle and getting everybody doing something. A man in blue flipped out some cards. Another grabbed a book and stuffed himself into one of the beds. "Papa" was about to grab a mug when he saw me. He grabbed my arm and was about to shove me someplace when the door burst open and a rush of people stepped inside.

"Uncle!" I shrieked, wondering myself why I thought that seemed like a bad thing. I guess because everyone else was scared at his coming, it sort of rubbed off on me.

"Papa's" hands suddenly went limp around me.

A tall fellow screeched: "Colonel Hogan, what's the meaning of – of?" I think he was looking at me.

Uncle stared between me and "Papa," no expression on his face. Then I saw Papa standing behind Uncle, looking all hard and serious in his black clothes and swinging his big rifle in his arm. I could barely recognize him with that look. But when he saw me, he became like Papa again – the shocked Papa, at least. Like when I dropped that milk jar last week.

But before Papa could react, Uncle jerked his arm out to prevent him from stepping towards me. "What is you son doing here?" he asked, quite sharply in my opinion.

"Sir, I – I—" Poor Papa!

"How did he get here?"

"Sir, he came with me."

Uncle slapped him. I couldn't believe it. "Papa!" I shrieked, running towards him. Uncle batted me away.

"Liar," he hissed at Papa. "I didn't see him in the car. What do you take me for, a fool?" What had happened to Uncle? The dinners at eight? The trinkets he used to get me? He wasn't like himself anymore. Uncle used to smile. And Papa... His eyes were hard and yet at the same time, terrified. Don't ask me how I came to that mixed-up conclusion, but it was there. I'd never seen Papa like that. The tears started busting out of my eyes. I tried to stop them, but look at Papa! Something really bad was going on.

"Get that man away from me!" Uncle boomed. Some other people, dressed like Papa, came near. They looked a little sad and paused.

"I told you, arrest him."

"For what, sir?" Papa said.

"Insubordination. Suspicion of treason."

"Treason?"

A black-dressed man took Papa's gun away. Another took his arm. The spindly guy in the corner stepped up to Klein. "Major," he said, "you may use our cooler."

"Thank you, Klink." Uncle smiled finally. But it was an awful smile. It made my stomach feel all queasy.

Uncle suddenly looked at Papa and laughed. Then he walked past the table in the room and stopped in front of "Papa."

"Colonel Hogan," Uncle said. So that's what his name was.

"Yes, Major?"

"Your men are confined to barracks."

I rubbed my eyes frantically from their tears. This had to stop – my eyes, firstly, and, secondly, this crazy thing that was happening to Papa. I still hadn't told Mama where I was. I hadn't figured out who these other people were. I didn't know what was happening with Uncle.

Uncle leaned towards Klink. "Post a guard in every barracks," he whispered.

"There is a guard posted—"

"_Inside every barracks_."

"Yes, sir, yes, yes, of course! Schultz! We need all our men..."

Uncle looked down to me. "And now, you're coming with me." He swooped me in the swash of his coat.

I jumped out quickly. "Papa—" I looked for him. One of the people around Papa tugged at Papa slowly. "I'm really sorry, Ernst," the former said. But Papa just stared blankly. They started to take him out the door. Uncle held me back. I squirmed. "Stop it," he hissed. Then Papa caught my eye quickly, his glance moving from mine to Papa's lookalike, the one called Hogan. It was just for a moment, but the instant he did so, Uncle stepped towards Hogan, his big hands gripping mine.

"Schultz!" Uncle shouted, without leaving his eyes from Hogan.

A round man tumbled into the room. He was panting terribly and his huge figure blocked my view of Papa leaving the room. "Put this man in the cooler," Uncle said.

"What have I done?" Hogan snapped. He sure didn't look like Papa anymore. Papa never got mad.

Uncle swooshed by the round man, dragging me with him. "Do it."

I was led out of the room. I didn't feel very good anymore. Spy stuff wasn't too fun right now. Then I realized all these people were probably spies; that would explain how crazy mysterious they were. Papa was caught up in it somehow. Boy, if there was a time I had to be a good spy, this was it. I saw Papa being pushed around into a blank gray building. Papa's lookalike followed him, an angriness in his step. Poor Papa. I could feel the tears want to bust out. But I was in the middle of this mess. I looked up at Uncle's totally un-Uncle-like fierceness. I was the sensible one in this mess, and I wasn't going to cry. No I wasn't. I was going to figure this out.


	4. Part, the Fourth

a/n: Thank you all for the continued support! Sorry for being late with this update, but real life is having a tantrum and demanding more attention. :)  
>For a while, I wanted to have the main character anonymous, but it seems that it's hard to maintain realism without some people calling him by his first name, like his father. So... I sort of used what buggleston thought his name was. :)<br>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.

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><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Fourth ::

I realize my situation was getting pretty dark around now, but I have to tell you; it wasn't going to stay that way. I knew it was up to me to have a plan.

Uncle took my hand and walked swiftly forward. Papa was going to be all right, I told myself, because if I hadn't, I was sure I'd go mad. Besides, I was going to help him.

I tried to detach myself from Uncle's hand, but he wouldn't have it. So I had an idea.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I said.

Uncle looked down at me, totally frazzled. That took him off his high horse for a minute. Yes, things were getting better already.

His steps grew faster and I trotted along to catch up. He went up the steps of a huge building and almost threw me through the doors. "I don't have time for your problems. Go find it yourself." And he slapped the door shut behind him.

Now I was alone – I think. I checked out the new room quickly, counting. Big stuffed chair, table, door, door, door (including the one leading outside). Metal thing against the wall, pictures, a hundred little doo-dads on the shelves. No person. Yes! I scrambled through one of the doors – a rightward one – and jumped on the bed to reach the window. I put aside the trinkets on the little table next to the bed and opened the window. It was just like ours at home, so the latch thing gave me no problems.

Of course I looked around briefly before I jumped out. There was another big building to the right and running all across my line of vision, a tall, ugly fence. I peeped my head out quickly and saw to the right was a tall hollow structure with a pointed cap on top of it; behind it, a small rectangular structure. Closer to me to the right was a big wooden building, and far, far right was the gray building Papa and Hogan were taken to. Somehow, I felt the two of them had something going on together – some spy thing. That would explain Papa's look back there. Which would also mean they were on the same side!

Unless, of course, there was something else going on. But I didn't want to think about complications now.

So I looked around once more, saw no one, and leaped out. I scrambled to the edge of the building and suddenly realized I should have called Mama from in there. There _was_ a phone in the building. I looked back at the window, seriously reconsidering...

But it looked like my jumping out of the window was a non-reversible operation. Poor Mama! I battered myself. You dumb dumb. Now Mama is _really_ worried.

Well, that just meant I had to get this thing over with sooner.

So I looked around once more past the corner of the building. There were all kinds of people marching back and forth or standing still, lugging long guns. If I could get behind the rectangle building, I could then get to the gray building. It was a straight shot from my building to the rectangle, so I counted, one, two, three, then off I went!

Man, that was scary. But nobody saw me, I think. I still had to get from the rectangle to the gray building. And the gun people were buzzing around the gray one. So I dug a little into my spy brain and figured that I could make them look the other way if I made a noise on the other direction of me. I don't know if that made much sense, but I figured it this way: I grabbed a handful of dust and rocks from the ground (it wasn't much of a handful with my little hands, unfortunately) and with all my might threw it over the right corner of the gray building. It was good I played so much snowball on the playground. You know, you had to have a good throw if you wanted to win against Bernd – or even Kirkie. But anyway...

Some of my dust and rockball got caught in the spiky rope that ran along the top of the tall fence around the gray building. Luckily, most of it went over and the people all looked the other way. So I scampered across, feeling like a real life spy. Then I got to the fence. I almost thought I goofed and couldn't get across, but I'd done this thing before – going under fences that is. We once lived in a country house with horses on the other side of the fence. I threw a stick over once and crawled under the fence to get it back. The horses sure scared me!

Anyway...

This fence looked a little worse off, but I quickly scampered around and found a spot where the bottom of the fence lifted a little from the ground. You can pretty much guess what I did, although I tried my bestest not to squeal at the bits of wire that poked out from the bottom.

Well, I got behind the gray building now. There was a door to my right and a small square window near the top of it. I tried the handle and amazingly it opened. It seemed liked a movie-like strike of luck, but then, wouldn't it be movie-like if it was locked? Maybe I hadn't seen enough movies. But I figured there were so many people toting guns, they didn't need locks.

So I slipped inside and thankfully there were no other people except the two I wanted to find. I made sure I listened carefully before I tiptoed down the isle to Papa and Hogan.

"...get suspicion away from us," Hogan was saying in a low voice.

"Well, how's that going to happen now?" Papa responded just as quietly. I loved hearing him whisper. I sounded so spyish.

"I hope they don't get stupid and try to contact us here."

"They _are_ your men."

"Yeah, but they'd be crazy. With a guard posted in _each_ barracks. Klein's really going all out to catch us. That's just what he's waiting for – to grab our hands in the cookie jar."

"Pardon?"

"An American expression, Corporal."

"Oh."

I finally inched into their eyesight, with the expected gasp from Papa. "Ernie!" It was fun surprising him.

"Hi, Papa!" I exclaimed.

"What – what are you doing here?" He jumped from a seat in the corner and grabbed the bars nearest me.

"Shh." I put my finger to my lips.

Hogan got close – as close as he could in the bars, anyway. "What are you up to, kid?"

Papa knelt down and took my hands. "It's dangerous here," he gasped. "What are you trying to do?"

"And how did you get in?" Hogan looked at me with a look like Bernd when he had something sneaky up his sleeve.

"I'm here to help you, Papa – and you." I looked at Hogan.

"Help?" Papa was looking so, so worried.

"Listen, you're only what?" Hogan looked up the isle. His voice went lower. "Ten, twelve years old? Do you even know what's going on?"

I put on my best grown-up face. "I know Papa and you are in trouble, and I know I want to help."

There was a sound from up the isle. Hogan's eyes locked into mine. "Jump into that other cell, hide in the shadow. Don't move and don't talk. Got it?"

I nodded, recognizing the high seriousness of his command. A thrill went up my spine – and a fear. One of those mixed-up emotions, I guess. But anyway, I scooted out of there at kids-hearing-the-ice-cream-wagon speeds and did what Hogan asked.

And good thing, too. A gun-toter was coming down the isle, a stony statue look on his face. He came, passed, turned around, passed again, and left. No words. Well, I thought, what a useless walk. I guess they must be bored out there. Probably played rock-paper-scissors for who'd make a march down here. But anyway!

Once he left, I scooted back into the light.

"Good job," Hogan said. I smiled. He _was_ a good spy, I could tell. And I was working with him!

"What could I do to help?" I asked in a whisper.

Papa was shaking his head, speechless. "I'm not letting you do anything, Ernie."

Hogan looked at Papa. "I would agree, too. Except we don't have a lot of options. Listen, kid, tell me, how did you get here? And make it fast."

That was a two-sided question. "I got into this camp by hitchhiking from a so-called dog truck." Hogan shook his head, sighing and smiling. I smiled with him. "Into this building, I crawled under the fence."

"I've always been looking at that hole," Hogan sighed.

"Well, what does this mean?" Papa was getting frazzled.

"Did anybody see you?" Hogan asked me.

"Of course not! I'm a spy," I held my head up high.

"Oh, Ernie," Papa sighed, leaning on the bars.

"Papa, I'm going to get you out." I tapped his big fingers. He looked up at me wistfully (Yes, another big word!).

Hogan motioned for me to come near him. "Listen, kid, Ernie. Do this for me, okay? Go out the way you came. Don't let anybody see you. Go by the building labeled "Barracks 2" and see what's the situation. And if you can get anybody there alone, tell him not to try anything like going into the tunnels, okay? And above all, don't tell what's happening here to the men in black, the ones with the guns. This conversation is our secret. Okay?"

"Yes, sir!" I saluted.

"Uh." Hogan adjusted my arm so that it was bent and the edge of my flat palm touched my forehead. "Wrong salute, buddy."

I think Papa was going to keel over in a faint.


	5. Part, the Fifth

a/n: Again, thank you for the comments. I'm glad you all are enjoying this one! Hopefully, I'll do better with updates. I referenced barracks organization from Corey Hatch's "Maps and Drawings of Hogan's Heroes' Stalag 13."  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

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><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Fifth ::

I was positively thrilled right now, with that mission and all from Hogan. I mean, this was it. This was the great caper I've wanted all my life. Even Emil didn't get missions like this. I snuck out the fence hole and saw way out there the black coats roaming around the gray building. Suddenly I wondered where Barracks 2 would be. There were so many buildings! I should have asked him.

Ohhh. I looked back at the hole in the fence. He was counting on me. It meant a lot to him. I couldn't ask the black coats for directions. Our conversation was secret. So I had to walk by every building and look for names? Well, some spy I would be – out in the open.

Then I thought to myself, Lesson 1 in Spyhood: It's keeping your mission, not necessarily your person, a secret. Wow, that sounded so professional! But this was sure going to require some big stuff on my part.

I took a nice big breath and stepped out – to the left towards a pen of cars. There was no sense in going straight into the Lion's Den, not when you could go around it part of the ways. Call that Lesson 2. Mrs. Meister isn't the only one who can give lessons!

Anyway, so I dodged around the pen of vehicles and when I got around it, I finally saw a little white sign on one of the buildings. It read "Barracks 14." The building next up didn't look like a "2." The number on it rounded on the left side. A "2" of course rounds on the right. There were gallons of other buildings around. I just had to go through all of them. Poof...

I stepped out, repeating Hogan's message in my mind. I didn't want to forget it, or else all my troubles would be for nothing. (Or for naught, as Mrs. Meister would say.)

So I went around Barracks 14 and the one behind it was Barracks 15. I was out in the open now, so I put a little pride in my step, pretending I knew what I was doing. I even slooped my hands in my pockets. There were a lot of noise coming out of the buildings, but not so many people came out for some reason. It must have been Uncle's order about putting a guard inside the buildings.

Then I passed Barracks 7, then 4, then 8. (I tell you, there was absolutely no rhyme or reason in those digits.)

That's when I met the first black coat.

"Halt!" he boomed.

I stopped.

He wiggled a curved finger towards me. You know something bad's going to happen when threatening people do that. But I really had no choice but to go along with him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You are Ernst Gottlieb Junior?"

"Well, yes."

"You belong in Colonel Klink's quarters. Didn't Major Klein tell you that?"

"No, not exactly."

"Then come with me." He slung his gun up, sliding it along its shoulder strap, and came towards me with grabbing arms.

"I can walk just fine, thank you," I said.

"Children nowadays," he snorted. "Follow me."

"Just tell me the direction and I'll go myself."

"Little boy—"

I thought fast. "You're here to watch this building?" That's what the big trouble was, Hogan said. "You're supposed to stay here, right?"

"So?"

"So you can't come with me, anyways. Is it that way?" I shot a finger to my right.

The man looked fed up. "_Ja, ja_." He swung his gun around and threatened to pat my behind with it. "_Auchtung!_"

I scampered out quickly and looked back to see him turn around and head into the barracks building. I went around another building that read "5," to my left was "3" and finally the last building before a wide open area was "Barracks 2." Past the wide open area was the building Uncle put me into. Then I realized Barracks 2 was the one I was in originally. I tell you, I almost went bonkers thinking I went all around and it was right in front of my face. Oh well, nobody's perfect. Spies, least of all, I guess.

Luckily, like I said, Uncle's orders had kept most of the black coats inside, so I was able to move around like this pretty well.

So now I was in the corner of the "2" building with the gray prison place a far diagonal away from me. There was a window a little above me. I figured I could contact somebody through that, so I hopped on my little two feet and prayed nobody else was looking. But sure enough, there was a black coat in there, tapping around a desk with his fingers and generally looking over the room, like he was my mother. Boy, poor Mama.

Well, the window was out. So I peeked around the corner and saw Uncle afar off with a group of other men, including the spindly one and the big round one I'd met before. There was a door farther down the building. But getting to it... Well, that was a little different story.

I plopped down on the dirt to think. Thank goodness the barracks in front of me to the left didn't have anyone in front of it. If that were the case, I'd be done for. Then I thought about how Mama looked over rooms. She never stayed long; she always left to join the kids.

So I jumped up to the window again and looked in. Sure enough, he was gone. I took one more look around, balanced myself with one grip on the edge of the window, and reached up to grab the lock. Push! And it was open. I didn't look behind me to see if anybody saw me bumbling through the window. What good would it be, really? I was already in the act and couldn't stop now.

So I got inside and plopped onto a metal rectangle. I sure got to be quieter when I go about sneaking like this. Hearing something out of place is just as bad as seeing someone out of place. (Lesson 3, shhh.)

Anyway, I was inside. That was the important thing. It was a sparse little place, a thin bunk to my left, table to the right, long thin box in front of me – and the door. I put my ear to the latter.

"—the Geneva Convention," someone was almost shouting.

"I'm the boss here. You'll do as I say."

"Listen, ya wouldn't want to do that, really?" said an accented voice.

"Speak for yourself."

"Come on, mate."

"You over there! Unpack that locker. You, the case there. And you, Englander. In that room. I saw a locker there."

"But ya can't mean the guv'nor's—"

"I do mean that, Corporal. Now, go!"

"No need to threaten. I'm goin'."

I got on all fours and looked under the crack of the door. A pair of shoes was coming towards me. Eeps! I backed off into the hinge of the door just as it opened. A blue-dressed man entered and went straight to the window and the rectangle box under it. He was not in black, so he was a good guy.

"Psst!" I whispered, hoping I'd be heard above the general mush of sounds from the other room. "Psst!" I pulled the blankets on the bed.

The man turned around. He did a double take on me, then grabbed a bunch of stuff from the locker and lay them on the bed. Then he dropped a crumpled shirt by the door, leaned over to pick it up, at the same time pushing the door a little further closed. He still had the shirt under his hands on the floor. "You again!" He picked up the shirt and put it in the pile. "You're that crazy kid." His hand mushed into the mess of things on the bed, making noises.

I didn't quite know what he meant, but I figured I'd deliver Hogan's message now. "I have a message from Hogan," I said quietly.

"I'm not exactly in the mood for practical jokes, ya know?"

"I'm not kidding! Hogan told me to tell someone from Barracks 2 that no one should try to go into the tunnels or do anything dumb." I think that's what he said anyway. "And he wants to know the situation here. He's planning how to get out of this mess," I added in a hoarser whisper.

He didn't say anything for a bit. "Are you're pullin' me leg or somethin'? Did Hogan really tell ya this? Hogan? In the brown leather jacket and the officer's cap?"

Yup, that was him. I nodded. "He said our conversation was a secret. He's in the gray building, you know."

"No, thanks for the news flash. 'Ow did you get there? Kommandant's orders?"

"I snuck in."

"Well, that's just dandy!"

"Huh?"

Heavy footfalls were pounding towards us.

He leaned to me quickly. "I was a kid like yourself once, too, and you can't trust 'em. Hang in there. I'll get back to ya." He jumped and grabbed the pile, metal cups dangling and book pages flapping about, leaning into the door to close it on me. "There ya are!" he told in incoming stranger. "I was just comin' out to fetch ya."

"Oh, really."

"Where do ya keep the stolen property?"

"_Raus, raus!_"

"Be gentle. Ya ever hear of mutiny?"

"Get over there."

I squeezed myself into the door corner. So I had to wait for him? And hope the black coat didn't come in? Boy, this was getting sticky. I peeked through the door slit between the wall and door. The black coat was poking his gun through a stash of clothes, books, and other little doo-dads. The crowd all around were scowling at him. The man in blue was whispering to a tall man next to him. I slumped back and waited, praying that the black coat, like Mama, didn't come into my room but once a day.


	6. Part, the Sixth

a/n: Thank you again for your comments!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Sixth ::

I looked through the door slit again. The man in blue was talking to a black-skinned man. I'd never seen a dark man like him since before Papa got his new job. The one I knew was really nice; he used to work with Papa. But he went to visit his aunt in America and we never saw him again. I was sad.

But anyway, the two of them turned briefly in my direction, then snapped back to look at the black-coated fellow in the room. He was shouting awfully, telling people what to do and where to go. I didn't think that was any proper way to talk to somebody. He was sure not making any friends around here.

But I could see the man in blue working to get back to me, like he promised. Whispers were going around, from the dark man to a short one, to someone with a cap like Hogan's, and finally to the red-scarfed fellow I'd seen before. Suddenly people started talking back to the black coat, he starting getting mad again, and the crowd got thick around the man in blue (my "contact," let's say).

Then, when they'd worked up quite the commotion, my contact slipped towards me and brushed open and shut the door.

"Now, little fella, let me get this straight. Hogan sent you?" He talked in a harried, accented whisper.

"Yes, sir." I felt a little formal.

"Why you?"

"I'm Ernie Gottlieb. Papa works with Uncle Klein."

"I know _that_."

"Does that mean you trust me?"

"Why are you helping our side?"

Oh, the sides thing again. "I'm with Papa, that's all – and Hogan." Yes, they were together. "I want to help." I think I sounded a little grim there. It sort of scared me when I realized how scared I must have been inside to sound that way. "I just want to help Papa, that's all," I said more to myself than anyone this time.

My contact must have noticed me. He leaned close to me. "Ernie, no need to bawl, everything's goin' to be just fine. Yeah, just fine." He knelt close to me. "The Jerries don't send us honest chaps like you. So, Ernie, Hogan told us not to get to 'im?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did 'e tell us what ideas 'e had?"

"Uh, no, he asked what the situation was here – so he could plan."

"The situation, eh? Well, it's downright crazy. This new guard is grabbin' everythin' in sight. I'm lucky if I could keep the shirt on my back."

"So I tell him that?"

He shook his head. "No, Ernie. Tell 'im it's just crazy right now – and not to miss Rita Hayworth. He took 'er, too."

"Whose she?"

He smiled, a sort of happy and sad smile. "Tell 'im this new guard is takin' liberties with our things, that's all. And that Major Klein is threatening to put us out of business if we can't prove Papa Bear doesn't live here."

I blinked. Boy, that was that a long message. But I have a memory technique Mrs. Meister taught me. It's too long and complicated to go into now, since you'd lose the flow of my story if I stop and explain. But this time I was sure I'd remember it.

He whispered again. "I really 'ate to trust you, I'll be honest. But seein' we 'ave no other choice – and seein' that the guv'nor already trusted you this much. Well, I'm in."

"Uh, yeah." The man sure talked funny. I figured I should get his name, but instead of just asking it the boring way, I remembered something Mama read from our big Bible. "Whom shall I say sent me?" I asked loftily.

He looked at me funny. "Tell Colonel Hogan that Newkirk sent you, Peter Nekwirk. He'll know."

_Peter Newkirk_, I repeated in my mind.

He stood up and peered out the door. "I'd love to stay and chat, Ernie, but I can't risk our guest catchin' on." He snuck over quickly to the window and peered out. "We're sure puttin' a whole lot of faith in ya. Don't know what the guv'nor was thinkin'. Coast's clear, by the way. Better get a move on."

I stepped over the metal box. "Thank you, Newkirk," I said quite professionally, in my opinion.

He nodded and I slipped out the window once more. I paused suddenly. If I went to the left, I risked meeting that guy again; to the right, meeting Uncle and blowing my cover. I figured I'd take my chance and go left. But things couldn't go that smoothly for me, could they? I didn't even get halfway in my journey before I met the big round one. Well, at least he wasn't a black coat. It was gray, so maybe he was only halfway bad.

He peered down at me. "Little fellow, what are you doing around here?"

"I just came out..." I threw my hand around behind me, being vague.

"Well, back, back, back! You don't want the Major getting mad again. You know, he's even worse than the Kommandant."

He herded me towards that building across the open space. This was not going to work. "Excuse me, but … but, can't I see Papa?" I looked up and gave my best baby face.

"Oh, poor little fellow. Ernie, right? You're Ernie?"

"Yes, Herr..."

"Schultz."

"Herr Schultz, please, may I see Papa?" I flapped my little hands in his face.

"But, Ernie, the Major does not allow anyone to go there."

I clapped my hands together. "Please! I have to see him, he's my Papa."

Schultz scrubbed his face with his hand. "Papa. Always Papa. Of course, I understand. I'll let you see him, but you must keep this between you and me, you understand? No monkey business!" He squinted. "What am I talking about. Colonel Hogan's in the cooler. Come, come. We'll go this way. The Major is that way, see?"

So that's how I got to see Papa and Hogan again.

"Ernie!" Papa exclaimed, a bit guardedly. Hogan looked hard at us, taking in everything in those big brown eyes.

Schultz looked sorry as he talked to me. "Please hurry, Ernie. The guards might get suspicious!"

"Just watch outside, then, Schultz," Hogan piped up. "Like a regular guard. Tell us if Klein's coming. I'm sure the kid will tell you when he's ready to go."

Ah! A moment of spy gold. Hogan sure knew his this business. Schultz couldn't argue with that logic, so he Schultz hurried off, leaving us with a final "Be quick!" before he shuffled out of earshot.

Hogan knelt down to my level fast. "Okay, give it. What's going on out there?"

I counted on my fingers. "One, the new guard is taking liberties with our stuff. Two, Major Klein threatens to shut the business if we won't prove Papa Bear isn't here. Three, I was sent by one Peter Newkirk!" I smiled. Mission accomplished. Yes.

"Figures," Hogan sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"Hi, Papa!" I waved, feeling pretty good about myself.

"Ernie, I'm worried about you."

"Why, Papa?"

"Shh," Hogan waved us down. "I've got an idea."

"It doesn't involve Ernst, does it?"

"Well, yes, it does."

"I cannot hear of it!"

"But, Papa!" I shrieked.

"I cannot have my son running around doing dangerous things."

"Papa, you're angry."

Papa sighed heavily and sank to the floor. "I – I don't know what came over me. Colonel Hogan, please don't try your wild schemes on, on such a little boy."

"I'm not such a little—"

"Relax, Corporal. I have it all figured out. Remember you told me about your wife? It works out perfectly. Now, Ernie." He looked me in the eye. "Listen carefully. This is serious, and you can't miss a single step. We're all depending on you. Got it?"

"Why, uh, yes." Boy, did the man do a good job of deflating one's balloon. I looked over at Papa, his collar loosened, his clothes dusty, and his hair a tousle. And I thought of Mama, still worried somewhere out there. "Yeah." I shuffled my feet. "This is, this is not a game."

Hogan's voice lowered and quickened. "Ernie, for a short while, you're going to take my place – as Papa Bear."


	7. Part, the Seventh

a/n: Thank you once again for reading and reviewing! This is a short one, because from tomorrow morning til Monday afternoon I'll be on a little trip for the Labor Day holiday. Have a great weekend everyone!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Seventh ::

"My goodness, I thought you'd never come!"

I smiled up at Schultz, trying to hide the glow of excitement that I was sure was emanating out of my face. "I wasn't that long, see?"

"Well, please, _please_, let's get out of here." He grabbed my hand and rushed me out the doors of the gray building.

I repeated in my mind Hogan's plan, sure I'd forget it if I grew too thrilled at the prospect of being a _real real_ spy.

"I got to get you back to the Kommandant's quarters," Schultz continued to gasp.

I walked next to him swankily, waiting for Uncle to appear. Though even if he didn't, I had an alternate plan (all right, _Hogan_ had an alternate plan). It sure sounded crazy to be looking for Uncle at this point, after all the avoiding we'd done before. But, hey, that's spy work: Never expect the expected. (Lesson 5, was it? Oh well, can't keep track now. There's too much on my mind now...)

We hurried across the open area, Schultz's head swinging both ways. He'd taken the first step onto the stairs of the building when a shrill voice called out.

"Schultz!" It was the spindly fellow, Klink.

"What are you doing with little Ernst?" came the more slick voice of Uncle. His eyes looked ready to eat somebody. I shivered. Now _that_ was creepy.

"Herr Komandant! Herr Major! I – I—"

"Nnnuh! Schultz, you're impossible."

"But – but – but, what did _I_ do, Herr Kommandant? This child, he was just—"

Uncle held up his hand and everything fell quiet. He kneeled down to my level, his jacket swooping behind him like a cape.

"Enrst, what were you doing around the camp?"

"Roaming," I hedged.

His voice sharpened and he pointed to the building "You're going right in there."

"But I want Papa and Mama. I want to see them!"

"Ernie!" Schultz squeezed the word out of the corner of his mouth before facing the others. "He-he. Children. Always looking for Mama and Papa. Come on, Ernie." He eyed me desperately. "Let's go."

"I want to see Mama!" I shrieked, paying him no mind. It was really half-true. I _needed_ to see Mama. Goodness, she must be either mad at me now or worried sick. Probably worried sick now and when I get home, crazy mad. But that remains to be seen, of course.

"I want Mama!" I continued to rave.

"The poor child." Klink looked at me as though I was a flapping fish in a dry pool. Well, sympathy was a start. Now to have Uncle come on my side. "Please, Uncle!" I pleaded.

"Ernie, you are such a problem!" Uncle spat. "Get inside there! And let this be the end of it."

"But, Major Klein," Klink prodded lightly, "it wouldn't be so much to take him—"

"Klink!"

"Yes, sir." Klink was docile again.

Schultz pushed me towards the door. Nope, this wasn't going well. "No!" I shrieked, pummeling my little hands into the pillow of his middle. "I want Mama!"

Uncle gave me such a stare that I was sure I'd blow my cover. "Ernst," he said flatly.

"I'll be bored in there," I suggested.

His eyes hardened, one of them wrinkled shut, and he leaned down to me. Whoa! Keep calm, Ernie. Then he stared down Schultz (who, I felt, jumped ever so slightly), then practically shouted, "I don't care where you take him, just get him out of here!"

Great! Finally we were getting someplace.

"Yes, sir, Herr Major, yes, sir!" Schultz got wise this time and scooped me off the ground as he shuffled off towards the pool of vehicles.

"Ernie, you've been a bad boy, a _very_ bad boy." He plopped me in the passenger side. "Now, why did you do that to me, Ernie, why?" He lumbered behind the wheel contraption. "What have I done?"

We settled down comfortably. I started, "Well, Hogan said—"

"Colonel Hogan! Ohhh, that's the end of me, I know that's the end of me! You're all up to funny business." He wagged a finger at me. "I have to tell the Kommandant."

"Tell him what?" I cheered inside, seeing how everything was running like a script, with Hogan, the playwright. It reminded me of that show we saw that I didn't quite understand, with all the dark lights and creepy music. _Faust_, was it? Anyway, right now I was on stage. And who didn't want to be an actor? Spies were all that and more. So I'd told Schultz, "Tell him what?"

"That, that, that," Schultz bumbled, "—that you're up to funny business!"

"And that you let someone see Papa?" Clincher.

Schultz poked his head around the car, pushed me slightly and looked behind me.

That wasn't his line. "What are you looking for?" I asked.

He slumped back. "I thought maybe Colonel Hogan—" He looked around once more. "—was hiding here."

"Well, in a way."

"I knew it! No, I _don't_ want to know it."

"So you're not going to tell?"

He snickered. "Very well. But I'll take you home and no more!" He started the engine. "But how is going home funny business?"

"Because—"

"No, don't tell me. I know no_thing_!"

Yes, I thought, everything was going as planned.


	8. Part, the Eighth

a/n: Thank you for your reviews and continued support!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Eighth ::

"And turn right."

"Into Hammelberg? I thought you lived in Berlin."

"Well, we do, but Mama's at a hotel here now." Thank goodness Hogan told me I didn't have to hedge too much with Schultz. It was hard keeping secrets from him, him being such a jolly fellow and all. He looked like Santa Klaus, the poor man. I was positive the kids robbed him every Christmas.

Then we got to the big hotel. I started getting sweaty palms. Funny, because I'd stood up to Uncle and other scary figures in my (albeit short) time as a spy.

Schultz didn't even open the door for me in the car before Mama came busting out of the building, a giddy smile on her lips. A cheer went up from a little crowd surrounding her. "Ernie!" she gasped and grabbed me just as I stepped out of the car.

Oh gosh, she was so happy. I think I started bawling, thinking how unthinking I'd been towards her. "Mama!" I shrieked.

"Where have you been, darling?" She was on one knee and looking at me with those sky blue eyes.

I looked up and saw Schultz sniffling, waving his handkerchief around his nose. Mama followed my gaze and stiffened at the sight of the man.

"Ernie..." She looked questioningly at me, then stood up and stood straight before the round fellow. She looked briefly at his outfit. "Sergeant," she said warily, "where did you find my little boy?"

"Oh, Ernie?" Schultz blew his nose again. "Pardon me, Frau Gottlieb, but I love sweet reunions."

"Was he in trouble?"

"Nein." He blew once more and stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket. "He, I _think_ he came with his father." He glared at me suspiciously.

"Can we go inside, Mama? I want some gingerbread."

"Wait, darling. Where was he? Where were they?" she asked Schultz.

Creeps. Now Mama might blow my cover. Who knows what might come out in this talk.

"Stalag 13," Schultz said like she should have known.

"Stalag_—_?" Her face went through a mingle of looks, quite unpredictable. I wish I had glasses like Professor Bosch. He always paused, adjusted them, and then he knew what was going on. So I just scratched my head.

"What happened there, Sergeant?" She was quiet and cautious again.

"Oh, nothing much. Just child's play. Major Klein tried to keep him from exploring, that's all. Oh." Schultz paused slowly. "There is one more thing. Frau Gottlieb, your husband is in the camp's cooler. The Major thinks he is, well, a traitor to the Reich. I am so sorry." Schultz hung his head down. Mama turned white. A few whispers went around the little crowd around us.

"Mama." I tugged at her dress. If only I could tell her I was working on it. I didn't like to see her cry. I was the one who was supposed to do the bawling. "Mama," I pleaded, but Hogan didn't tell me about secret eye glances that make one person know that everything was going to be all right.

"Dearie." She looked down at me and took my hand. "Let's go inside. Thank you, Sergeant. You have been, really so, so kind." She barely got the last words out.

Schultz watched her go, fiddling with his hands. I smiled quietly back at him. He wasn't such a bad guy. I'm sure he'd appreciate my getting Papa out of the cooler and making Mama feel better.

In our hotel room, Mama really let it all out. Her face was normal, but clear streams of water were flowing out of her eyes. The happy skies in them were now stormy, I imagined. "Mama, don't cry."

"Ernie, we haven't told you about many things." She came up and took my shoulders. "I guess we were wrong to do that. Ernie, you don't know what's happened to Papa."

She paused and I let her speak. For some reason, I felt this was no time to blab out Hogan's plan. Not yet anyway.

"Our rulers, you know, like the kings of old. You know the stories? Well, we have a bad one now and Papa was trying get us to escape him, along with some other people, those people who've been visiting us at home."

I nodded. It also sort of explained the secret papers that I saw at the start of this whole deal.

"And now that Papa is suspected..." Her voice crumbled again.

"Mama," I started slowly. She wouldn't believe if I rattled it all out right away. I needed to offer her something solid. "Mama," I prodded again, waiting for a response.

"Yes, Ernie?"

"Back at the prison, I was there, you know."

"I know, Ernie."

"I can get Papa out."

She smiled sweetly at me and ran her hand through my tousled hair.

"Mama, you don't believe me."

"Of course I do, darling." She hugged me. "I don't know what we're going to do," she said more to herself than me.

"Mama, I said I can get Papa free."

"Ernie." She pulled us apart slightly and looked at me squarely. "There's no use pretending. Papa is at the mercy of the Gestapo." She shuddered suddenly and I could tell there were thoughts in her head that she didn't say out loud.

"Mama, I have to tell you something." This was it, the Big News. "I met a spy there, a couple spies actually. They told me to help get Papa out. They told me to help get him and Papa Bear out of the cooler."

But Mama was starting to cry now. She couldn't get what I was saying. She probably didn't even hear me. Papa always said women were unpredictable, but I didn't know this is what he meant. I thought it was just over ice cream flavors or books. Maybe I shouldn't have confused her. Maybe I shouldn't have told her about the spy stuff. I'd asked Hogan about telling her and all he said was that he didn't tell his Mama. I don't know if that bit of information really helped me any, and it certainly didn't help me now.

"Mama, why don't you sleep a while?" I suggested.

"What are we going to do?" She brought a trembling hand to her mouth. Poor Mama. She looked really worn out. But what could I do? I'd tried telling her about the spy stuff and it didn't get her out of this mode. I looked up at the little clock on the bed stand. Hogan had told me to get going with the mission as soon as possible. I needed to move. I felt bad for Mama.

"Mama, please. If you rest a while, you'll feel better." I just didn't know what was going on in her head, and I started to wonder if she didn't want to tell me.

"Darling, we have to go see someone." She looked into my eyes. "You must come with me. I cannot leave you here. Come." She cradled my shoulders and led me out the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked. "I need to meet somebody."

"We'll see all your friends one day, Ernie."

"Mama—"

She rushed us across the street and down the line of shops. My next contact was along this line somewhere. I peered over to try to find his shop. We passed an alley, then I saw his sign at the far end of the street. Amazingly, Mama went down that alley, too. I started to hurry forward.

"May I have a tomato?" I said, hoping to get into the little grocer's store.

"Ernie, we are going there. You can have anything you want. I have to talk to the proprietor."

"No kidding? I have to, too."

"Ernie, you're sweet."

"No, really, I have to talk to Max."

We were inside the shop now. I saw the old shopkeeper with his big brown apron and little gray cap and black bow tie. He was looking down at something under the front counter. I went up to him quickly, before Mama got to him. "Are you the man who lost his Schnauzer?" I said brightly.

He looked oddly at me. "No, sonny, I don't have a Schnauzer." He paused and patted my head lightly. "I have a Weimaraner."

My, what a relief. This was the man. "I say Weimaraners are fine dogs," I continued. "We have two Dachshunds."

He paused again. "I'd like to talk about your dogs. Come with me behind the store. I have a special blend for that breed." He guided me around the counter, then looked at me hard and said pointedly, "What are their names?"

"Hans and Fritz of course!" I felt confident.

We almost got to the back door when Mama came up behind me, looking totally confused. "Mama, Max is going to show us something for our Dachshunds." I tugged her sleeve and blinked my eyes, hoping she'd get the message.

"Oh, yes, darling. Yes, please show us." She stepped with us to the back room. I think she got it, but I wasn't sure.

Max closed the door softly behind him. "I can't be long. Is this your son?"

She gave a tiny nod.

I looked at the clock on a high shelf. _Two-thirty._

"And you _both_ are Underground?"

It was time to jump in. I put on a mental cap of professionalism and grabbed every fancy word I've learned in my ten plus years of life. "Mein Herr, I've been assigned by Papa Bear for a very important job. He's locked away right now, but I have the plan; I have the information. We must capture Unc– I mean, Major Klein, and take out Bridge 14 east of Hammelburg and – well, not in that order – and—"

"Wait a minute." It was Max. I caught my breath. Being professional sure wiped me out. He looked from me to Mama, his soft face crinkling.

"_You're_...?" he started. Mama's face matched his words.

"I tried to tell you," I told Mama. "See, Hogan gave me an extra code, in case you doubted me." I tiptoed and whispered it in Max's ear.

He came away, eyebrows up. "My, my, what is this war coming to? Uh, I have to go back a minute and tell Johann to take care of the store. Excuse me."

As he left, Mama stared down at me.

"I thought you wouldn't believe it," I mumbled.

"You must tell me exactly everything that went on out there," she said severely. Yup, this was it. Time for my big blab about how I got into the camp and got Hogan's mission. I'll spare you the details.


	9. Part, the Ninth

a/n: Once again, thank you for your comments. I'm glad you all are enjoying this one!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Ninth ::

I looked over across the table and it suddenly hit me. Yup, they were all looking at me. So this is what it felt like to be Papa Bear.

Somehow the paper in the middle of the table rustled and I snapped out of my mode. "Oh, yes." I pointed to the map. "Bridge 14." The six people's heads turned down, like clockwork. All except Mama, who was looking at me. I'd not told her Hogan's special plan because Max came in in the middle and I had to tell him to fetch certain people. I'd just got as far as my encounter with Newkirk when the rest of them came, I had to jump in and tell them the plan.

So I continued.

"Uh, Bridge 14. It's close enough to make a racket at the stalag, so Klein—" I had to get used to calling Uncle that. "—would take notice and stop hassling Hogan." They looked up at me. Wrong word? "Uh, anyway, the explosion would bring Klein over to the area. I mean, it's so close and since he's looking for a saboteur already—"

"And what happens if he sends someone else to the scene?" asked a certain tall man in the group, his foreign voice a little obvious in this business. Well, maybe he had some other tricks up his sleeve.

"I have first-hand proof Klein is not that sort of fellow," I responded, very grown-up-like. In fact, Hogan had told me that Papa knew Klein always wanted to see things first-hand. And even if he wasn't that sort of fellow, who wouldn't want to check out the commotion we'd sure be setting off? It would be like a hungry kid _not_ going to a basket of candy that fell over.

Anyway, I continued. "After you set off the explosives, you set yourself here at Point A—" I pointed to a spot on the map between the stalag and the bridge. "—and wait for Klein to go by. Then you grab him. After that, you take him to the farm house here—" Another pointing. "—And use the phone to call the back phone of Max's store. I'll answer it. Now you'll be addressing me as Papa Bear and I'll be vocal enough for Klein to hear – at least enough to know somebody's here and you're not just talking to nobody. You know what I'm talking about?"

The heads nodded.

"And after we set that up, I'll tell you to call the prison camp leader—" What was his name again? "Klink." That was it. "And give him ransom information for Klein. You'll mention a location you're supposed to be heading to. This spot." I pointed again and took a breath to catch myself. Boy, this was getting complicated, but the fellows seemed to be taking it quicker than I did back at Hogan's. "_Then_, you set it up so Klein can escape."

"Ah!" The tall one raised his finger. "This is brilliant."

"You know what's suppose to happen?" I asked. I wasn't finished yet!

"_Oui_, but pardon me. Carry on."

I puckered my mouth. "Well, I guess after Klein escapes, he'll run back to the stalag and get some of his friends to the barn you're supposed to be in. You won't be there, of course, but you'd leave some papers and stuff just to keep them busy. Maybe some fresh hot chocolate or something, making like you just left." Big breath again. "And now for the details." I thought through the lists of data and numbers.

You don't have to remember exactly _everything_, Hogan had said. The Underground will help me there.

So I trusted him. It felt like it was going to be a long afternoon planning. I had already given them the places, which was most important. The details we'd work out now.

:: ::

Thirty minutes later, everything was set. You should have heard us talk, everybody over each other for a minute or so. (Yes, I know I _could_ have let you hear them talk, but it got boring really quick, since we were just talking about details and stuff like that.)

At around ten minutes after three, two of the fellows followed Max into the back of the store to change into disguises to look like Uncle. Those two were going out to the bridge. Another two snuck out to the road between the bridge and the prison.

Now obviously I wasn't quite grown up to be a spy like the rest of them yet, since I obviously wan't part of the group sneaking up the bridge or down the road. I'll skip over the boring stretches where I sat with Mama, alternating between awkward silences, admonitions over doing such a "downright foolish thing!" and happy hugging over Papa's soon-to-be safety.

I imagined what happened out there, because you know I have to fill in this most exciting part of the story with some sort of description.

So the tall one and his friend met the black ones at the bridge. They screamed their false identities and demanded inspection (this is what we discussed). They'd wander around the place, look important, and drift down near the water. From under their ridiculously heavy coats, they'd take out the bomb stuff and plant it at the base of the bridge. About half of the stuff was just for show, something like fireworks, I guess.

I looked at the clock. _Three-forty._

So about now, they're walking away, maybe making some excuse to the black coats to follow them a while before—

Boom!

—they scram out of sight in the confusion. I jumped off my seat and looked out the window, Mama beating me to it. The colorful flames water-fountained into the blue, blue sky. She grabbed my shoulders.

Now to the next phase of the operation, which might take a bit longer. I wished I was back at the stalag right now, to see what Uncle was doing. Was he strutting back and forth? Was he asking Hogan questions? No, maybe he was looking out at the fences and pointing out a crinkle in the wood when the red and yellow fountains caught his eye.

"That's Papa Bear!" he'd say and rush into his car to catch him.

No, I couldn't tell what he was doing. And all I could do was wait for the phone call and rehearse my speech. Mama went back to her seat and I took up my place on a little table which the phone was on.

_Three-forty-five_.

There wasn't any point in their hurrying, really. Certainly not in five or ten minutes. I mean, it takes a while for a fellow to grab somebody.

_Three-fifty-five._

It's not like grabbing a kid in the backyard, you know, where you can stash him up a tree or in the tool shed or something, and he doesn't really mind because he knows that you know that the both of you got to get back come suppertime. No, sir! This was _not_ like that.

_Four-o'clock._

And from the look of Uncle's face when I saw him mad once, he certainly was not one to give in so easily.

_Four-and-five._

Hmm.

_Four-and-eight._

My hand was itching towards the phone. Mama looked up, eyes sparkling with what must have been worry. "The mission's nearly done!" I offered.

_Four-and-twelve_.

Maybe they were chugging him to the farm house. Was he tied up or blindfolded, like in the films? I wondered if his cape was all wrinkled up now. I decided it was. There was a big crease right on the left corner, which looked so spiffy sweeping behind him before. And what about Hogan? Was he sitting back, in the dark corner of the cell, looking like the world was his oyster?

_Four-and-fourteen._

Ja, that's probably what was happening. And Papa? Oh, Papa. He would be straightening his clothing, maybe combing his hair. I wonder if they gave him a brush. Probably not. He combed it with his hands. He'd be imagining what I was doing. I straightened. I better do a really good job.

_Four-and-sixteen_.

And then Hogan would be calming him, telling him I would do just fine, because he trusted me. Somehow. And maybe Schultz would come in and wiggle his finger at Hogan, because he had this notion he really knows who Hogan is.

_Four-and-seventeen_.

And Mama, her eyes staring at the phone, my hand upon it. It was like I could feel the vibrations of its future ring. Was I psychic? It was just creepy.

Then it rang. Mama jumped. I blinked. After two jangles, I picked it up.

"Hello."


	10. Part, the Tenth

a/n: _Danke_ once more for your comments and reviews!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Tenth ::

I picked up the phone carefully.

"Ernie, we have a major problem. Klein's escaped."

If I'd been my friend Bernd's father, I might have said something pretty "colorful" as Mama would call it. But as I was not Bernd's father, I just wracked my mind for an appropriate answer. "So we can't make him think Papa Bear is outside?" I managed.

"Exactly. We hadn't had a chance to suggest the fact anyway."

Mama's eyes took on that worried look. I think she heard the talk.

"Did he give you an alternative plan?" said the voice on the other end.

"Who?"

"You know who!"

"Oh, oh, Hogan. Well, uh, hmm. He did mention something." Now why didn't I try to remember _that_? I just plain forgot. Other plans didn't seem like such a big deal when the main plan was so great.

"Uh, do you know where he is?" I don't know what got into me. Maybe I could think better with distractions.

"Klein? When he came up in the staff car, we grabbed him, drove him about halfway to the drop point, when he pulled out a gun and blasted the door handle. He was out the door before we knew what was happening. And then he disappeared. _Incroyable!_"

The last word threw me for a loop, but from the sound of it, surprise was the best option. "What'll we do?" But maybe I should think better. What was the goal of all this? To prove Papa Bear was somewhere else. "So we have to get him within earshot. Where do you think he went?" I asked.

"_Je ne sais pas_. Search me! But we were near the drop point when it happened. He must have followed the road."

I had a strike of inspiration. "How about we spread out?"

"_Oui_, my group will go north along the road. When Ames and Warner get there, tell them to go south. And—"

"What if he goes to the stalag?"

"Well..."

"Uh... Wait, I got it! I'll go to the stalag with Mama."

Mama's eyes perked with attention and she leaned closer.

"Mama and I will go to – to check on Papa!"

"Hmm. It's good reason enough. And if he's there, we'll have a man outside the stalag you can report to. He'll whistle a bird call if he sees you."

"Got it. Then everything's set?"

"_Oui_, everything is in order."

"Okay, bye!"

"Good luck."

Click.

"Mama! We got to scram."

:: ::

Finding a helpful hand to take us to the jail was again a little problematic (remember my first experience getting in?), but Max's son Johann found his brother's car to take us up. He was a nice fellow with yellow hair and bright blue eyes. I'd have loved to have him as an older brother. But anyway...

He dropped us off at the stalag, leaving us so that they'd have no choice but to let us in. It was weird standing outside the gates. It really looked like a sad prison from this angle. I was suddenly sad for the fellows inside.

The big round one puddled up to meet us.

"Schultz!" I jumped up and down. "Mama would like to see Papa!"

"Ernie! What are you doing back here?" He squeezed the words out of the side of his mouth. "Oh." He noticed Mama. "Guten Tag, Frau Gottlieb. What are you two doing here?"

Mama spoke up. "Please, let us see Ernst. I must know if he's doing well." She sounded so concerned, and I realized it was no acting. That was a little frightening.

Suddenly there was a mess of noise behind us, and we all turned back to see a rumpled figure half-run, half-hobble up the road towards us. I blinked at him and looked again. "Uncle!" I shrieked. He looked up and started shouting things I couldn't hear (or didn't dare repeat? I couldn't be sure.).

"Major Klein!" Mama moved up to him and put her arms around his bent-over figure. She was all sympathy. Boy, was she a good actor – or actress in this case.

"Whatever happened to you?"

"Frau Gottlieb! What are you—"

"I wanted to check on my husband. Ernie tells me—"

"Yes, he's a traitor."

"Ernst is no such thing!"

Meanwhile, I looked him over and, yes, indeed, there was a big wrinkle on his cape. But it was the _right_ side. I sighed; I didn't want to be psychic. His clothing was all sprinkled with twigs and dirt. He sure didn't look like a mighty nemesis now.

Mama kept pressing him on Papa's innocence until he couldn't say a thing. At the same time, she was brushing his coat and picking leaves off his hair. I joined in gladly. I thought it was funny that it looked like we were monkeys picking his fur.

But I think he wasn't too thrilled with it all. His face was tomato red and finally he spat, "Get that gate open, dummkoph! Get it open!"

And we all crashed into the camp. "Sorry, Schultz," I said as I brushed past him.

"Ernie!" he gasped, wagging a finger at me. Seemed like his wag was worse than his bite.

"Get Colonel Klink," Uncle shouted, very much angry. For some reason, though, this time around, I felt more like laughing than being afraid. Was that a sign everything was going to be all right? No, couldn't be. I had decided I wasn't psychic.

The lanky one jumped out of the building and gasped at the sight of Uncle.

"Major Klein!" he gasped. "What happened—?"

"The blasted Underground nearly nabbed me back there. Do you know anything about it?"

"Me, sir? Oh, of course not. Why should _I—_"

"Shut up, Klink."

"Yes, sir."

Uncle looked around, looking like a hungry wolf. Clearly, he needed a ball to bounce his anger off of. But of course, grown-ups can't do that, so... He just fumed there.

"Who did this to you, Uncle?" I piped up, trying to bring this back to the main topic. I needed to know if he thought Papa Bear was outside.

"The Underground. You wouldn't know who they were, would you?"

My, my, he was feeling pretty sarcastic today. But I figured it'd be good if I played along. After all, I _hadn't_ known what the Underground was til about a couple of hours ago.

"Gophers?" I said with my most baby face on.

"Of course, you little troublemaker, you wouldn't know. I bet you caused all these problems."

Was _he_ psychic? He was shaking his head, totally only aware of himself. No; it must be something in his mood. "Just get out of my sight," he sighed, shaking his fist at me.

"But who got you in this mess!" I prodded. "Your coat is boo-boo." I poked my finger through a hole in his sleeve.

"Ernst Gottlieb!" He slapped my hand away. "It was the Underground, I said that already. Klink, that explosion was no accident. What was Colonel Hogan—"

"The explosion?" I piped. Goodness me, I just had an idea! A real idea – to save the day! "You mean, the big bang out there?" I could hardly believe I had an idea. "We heard it, Uncle, we heard it!" I jumped up and down by his side, half out of my idea and half out of my acting.

He stared into my eyes. Frazzle dazzle, don't be frightened, Ernie, now. "Mama and I were by the bridge before it blew. And you know, you know what? I _saw_ him."

"Him who?"

"The person who planted the explosion!"

"You _did_?" Schultz popped in perkily.

"He was tall with dark hair – thick, black hair. Around six feet high." Thank goodness for my arithmetic! "And he had big brown eyes and he had helpers who spoke this funny language, and they left with him. And they acted funny and then the bridge blew up!"

I really think I threw Uncle for a loop. He patted down his rumpled suit and grabbed a black notebook from his pocket. He flipped through it quickly and his eyes ran through a page like mad.

"You're sure?" he asked me pointedly.

"Uh huh." I bobbed my head.

"Klink, it's Papa Bear. From the description, it's Papa Bear."

Klink peered into the notebook. "It's also Colonel Hogan," he said, squinting.

"Dummkoph, can't you see? This man was outside, he planted the explosives right there, right now. Get me a car, mach schnell! We need to catch them before they get any further. Schultz, my car. Raus!"

"In that condition?" Schultz asked, looking him over.

"I don't care! Schnell!"

"Yes, sir!"

And so we were there standing in the middle of the camp, the dust from the car blowing into my eyes. "Mama!" I squeaked. "I saved Hogan, didn't I? Didn't I save Hogan?"

"Now we have to save Papa, dear."

"Oh." I almost forgot. Papa and Papa _Bear_ each had to be cleared.

Mama continued. "They think he's a traitor, you know. They think he's paired up with Papa Bear."

That's when I thought about the Underground man posted outside. "I have an idea, Mama!" And I scampered off to Schultz, who was just getting the gate opened. Uncle's car was just rumbling out of the camp.

"Schultz!" I shouted, pointing madly at a tree outside the camp. "Did you see that bird? It's a rare bird!"

"What bird?" He looked up. "Ernie, what are you talking about?"

"It's a rare bird!" I squeaked and slipped out of the closing gates just as the car dust-bowled out of sight.

"Ernie! What are you doing!" Schultz huffed, but I was gone. I tumbled into the forest and got behind a tree and listened for the signal.

The whistle came and I hurried to the point. It was one of the six men who'd been at the first meeting with me. A rare bird, all right. "They think Papa Bear personally blew the bridge," I said quickly. "Now we need to clear Papa. You're in the Underground. You can say you don't work with Papa!"

"And how would I go do that?"

"Well... I guess that means you'd have to get caught." I crumpled my face.

"Boy, you are worse than _Colonel_ Hogan."

"Well, how else would you tell Uncle?"

"It is a little late for casual eavesdropping, I guess. Don't you worry, Ernie, I'll try Klein's trick on him when it happens. I know how to talk my way around the facts. I'll tell him what he needs to know without him even divining that I'm there to clear _Monsieur_ Gottlieb. Leave it to me."

"But you need to hurry! They'd be almost at the bridge now."

"I only need to be nearby, and with this..." He stepped towards a bush and rolled a motorbike into view. "I will get there when they do. I had to get _here_ in a hurry, too, you know. Now, you go back before they get suspicious."

"You must know what you're doing," I sighed and turned back. I met Schultz at the foot of the hill. "Ernie! Where have you been?"

"Talking to the bird." I smiled.

"_Talking—?_ Oh, Ernie, you're impossible. Now, back, back, back!" He herded me into the camp. I whispered a prayer that everything would be all right.


	11. Part, the Eleventh

_**October 3, 2011**_ – Sorry for the little late update. FanFiction was down for me all Monday til now!

a/n: I want to thank everyone who has read this story and who have taken the time to offer thoughts and comments on this journey with me. Enjoy the final installment of Ernie's adventures. You've all been a great help in motivating me to continue posting updates and keeping Ernie alive each week. Thank you all so very much!  
>Characters from Hogan's Heroes do not belong to me.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Thrilling Adventures of a Boy Spy<strong>

:: Part, the Eleventh ::

I met Mama and jumped into her outstretched arms. "The bird was very talkative!" I said, then whispered to her the latest developments.

"Sergeant," she addressed Schultz, "can I see my husband?"

"But he's in solitary." The poor fellow looked pretty beat.

She looked out to the road in a pretty, thoughtful way. "Major Klein is away, and I'm sure they'd find my husband innocent of all these accusations. Please, I want to see him."

Schultz sighed. "Why do I get in these messes? I think your husband is a nice fellow, Frau Gottlieb, so..." He sighed. "I'll let you see him. Only for a minute!"

"Of course, Sergeant, of course!" She rushed over to the gray building and he slowly followed us up. He looked at me accusingly. What did I do?

Inside, we saw Papa and Hogan, just like I'd left them. But from the way Mama was gasping, I was sure she'd faint. "They're all right, Mama!" But then I thought maybe sad gasps were the same as happy ones.

I smiled at Papa and tried to tell him everything was going nicely. Schultz was there so I had to keep up the theatrics. I looked at Hogan and winked a few times – maybe a little too much, because he whispered, "I think it's out of your eye now, sonny."

"Uh, yeah." I made a face. Well at least he got the message. I think.

Before I could even think much more, Schultz was trying to herd us out again. Even Hogan's suggestions didn't faze him this time. What was that saying? _Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice..._

Anyway, we were out of the building in no time. Mama had water around her eyes, and Schultz was peering towards the gate, twiddling his hands on his big gun. "Don't cry, Mama," I whispered and she hushed me quietly, then wiped her eyes quickly. She walked over to Klink's building and leaned against a wood pole on the outside. I went around and plopped myself on the steps. I guess we were waiting for Uncle to come back and release Papa.

To beat away my boredom, I reconsidered my situation. Uncle already thinks Hogan isn't Papa Bear. He'll catch the "bird" Underground man and get convinced Papa isn't a part of the gang, either. I honestly didn't want to think about how that fellow was going to do it, but I figured he was a part of this business for so long, he'd find a sensible way. Good thing I'm not _really_ Papa Bear, or else I'd probably be the one doing that tipsy business (that's not the right word, is it? Oh well, it sounded good there...).

Anyway...

I guess we just had to wait.

For Uncle to come back and release Papa.

Mmm, I don't like waiting.

:: ::

_Finally_ the car came. Mama jumped forward even before I did – then Schultz and the two of us tripped over each other to reach the vehicle. Klink and Uncle stumbled out of the black car. Uncle looked all fumed. What that a good sign or a bad one?

Several of many black-coated fellows rushed up, each calling "Major, Herr Major!" And causing a general ruckus. Suddenly Uncle slapped his gloves on his palm and everyone became quiet. "I cannot believe it," he said.

Schultz nudged Klink. "_What_ cannot he believe?"

Klink looked all of misery. It was like he'd just swallowed rotten broccoli. Ick! Anyway, he responded, "That his guard Gottlieb is not a part of the Underground."

"Oh," Schultz mumbled, then looked at me and Mama. "Then this means your Papa and your husband—" He stubbed his finger at each of us in turn. "—is free to go! Isn't this good news!" He grinned.

Klink and Uncle looked at him not very nicely.

"Oh." Schultz said, very small.

Of course Uncle had no choice. He started raving on and on about what happened out there, and I could catch snippets of his catching an Underground man and his getting away. About him begging to be let free and babbling on and on about the organization. "And he said Gottlieb was hosting the Underground as a trap," he spat. I should have listened to Uncle's rant a bit more. I might have gotten something useful out of it. Oh well, you can't repeat life – which can be a good or bad thing, depending on the situation – of course.

But anyway!

We got Papa back that day, kind of reluctantly from Uncle. Mama and Papa hugged in the middle of the camp. I stayed back because I saw Hogan come out of the gray building just then, and I figured Mama and Papa wanted one of those alone moments.

Hogan stopped about ten yards from me and stared up into the sky. I looked up. What was there to see? He smiled and sighed. Then he looked at me and got down to my level. "It feels good to be out." He patted my head. "Looks like you did a mighty fine job."

"Really?" I looked up into his big brown eyes.

He looked up past me and I turned. Four other fellows were approaching us.

"_Colonel!_" the red-scarfed fellow said. Seems like I met him first so long ago.

"Guv'nor." Hey, it was nice to see him again. Did he know I did a good job?

"Sir." The black man looked so friendly.

"Boy, am I glad to see you!" I hadn't met him.

"Hi!" I said and they all looked at each other with knowing eyes. Hogan turned my head to face him. "Yeah, you did snap job, kid."

I think I started to feel kind of giddy about then.

:: ::

Hogan had a few more tricks up his sleeve for Papa and Mama and me and the Underground people we'd been hosting a long while ago (the ones in our house and in the tunnels when I first got in). See, they finally told me what was going on. Apparently, we all were suppose to scram the country by means of Papa Bear's organization. Uncle's suspicion sort of changed the deal a bit, and got us in this mess. Going forward, we couldn't let Papa escape now just like that, else suspicion would fall on us again. (Boy, isn't it nice to know what's going on?)

So Hogan suggested the dastardly deed of killing Papa and us off. Not really of course, but just pretend, so the Underground would be blamed and we would be free to do as we please without any more suspicion from Uncle.

It was kind of fun hiding out in the forest and watching our car blow to bits. All this, mind you, took some time to plan. We spent about a week or so couriering messages from Hogan to us by means of Max and the dog truck man (Schnitzer was his name). In that time, I also learned the names of Hogan's team, although I didn't meet them after that last time in the camp. There was Kinch, the black man; Lebeau, from France; Newkirk, the man in blue from England; and Carter, an American.

So now I was in the woods with Mama and Papa, the glow from our blown car making lovely silhouettes out of the trees. All of our little goodies were in one small carpet bag my Papa carried. It was a good thing I wasn't a girl, because I'd have missed leaving all of my outfits in that hotel, never to be seen again.

Well, we met Hogan and one of his team in the woods there. They looked all funny with that black smeared on them.

"Hi, I'm Carter," the one man said. I was glad to get introduced to him, since he seemed to be a big part of the group.

"Hi!" I said.

"We've got to hurry," Hogan said.

"I heard a lot about you," Carter said, kind of friendly-like, as he meandered close to me.

"Yeah?" He was nice. "Well, danke!"

We scampered off to a tree stump which amazingly opened up into the tunnels I'd seen before.

"You're heading out on the first sub at 0230 tonight," Hogan said, quite in his element, I could tell. "That leaves about, say, an hour until we start moving you out."

I looked around. There were so many people, all the Underground folks and Hogan's team. I looked up at Mama. "Will we be leaving together?"

"Yes, darling. You and the six people here and your Papa and I are going to England."

"And what about Hogan?"

She smiled, like she knew something. "Why don't you ask him yourself."

An interesting proposition. I wanted to see him again anyway. Hogan was pacing the area in front of the big apparatus which no one had gotten around to telling me what it was. "Hogan?" I called up.

He looked down quickly. "Yes, Ernie?"

"Are you coming with us? To England?"

He paused and looked almost amused, then knelt down. "No, sonny."

"Why not?"

"I have a job here."

"Oh."

"But I'll come over later."

I looked at his team and at him. "So we won't see you again?"

"It's not forever, Ernie. Remember the song, _we'll meet again_."

I shook my head.

"Well, that's okay."

"You won't be able to show me how to make invisible ink, then?" Boy, I should have asked about this a lot earlier.

"You know, I think we can manage a little something." Hogan looked up at his team. "What do you say, fellas?"

"Oh, sure." "Yeah." "I'll get a lemon."

What did a lemon have to do with anything?

"Come here, Ernie." Hogan scooped me up and carried me to a little jutting table in a dark corner of the tunnels. He lit a lamp and his team gathered, armed with paper, toothpick, fountain pen, and bright yellow lemon.

"You see, Ernie," began Newkirk, "you take a toothpick."

"And stab the lemon," continued Lebeau, as Newkirk poked the yellow orb.

"Then squeeze the liquid." Lebeau took it and puddled some of it on the table.

"And write your message." Carter with the fountain pen dabbed the juice and scribbled on the paper.

"To reveal the message," Kinch took the paper and brought it to the lamp above, "just heat up the paper." Just before the paper crisped, Carter's doodle came into view. "Hello!" it read brownly.

"Wow!" I awed. "It's that easy?"

Hogan took the paper from Kinch and gave it to me. "It's just a basic one, but with your skills, I'm sure you'll be using more complex ones very soon."

I stared at the paper stretched between my hands. I smiled up at them. "Danke." They all smiled back.

The hour finally caught up with us. The whole gang in the tunnels trickled out until we all met at a hidden corner on the side of a road near a town. There was a big truck there that was going to take us to the shore to the boat. The Underground people hurried in the back, tipping their hats at Hogan and his team.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," Mama said as Papa shook Hogan's hand.

"I will not forget your operation, Colonel, and what you do to help people like us," Papa said.

Hogan nodded briskly. Mama and Papa climbed into the truck. "Ernie!" she called.

Hogan came forward and helped me into the back. "One more thing," he said. "The gang and I thought we'd like to give Ernie a going-away present."

I perked up. It wasn't even Christmas.

He reached inside his jacket and took out a folded roll of paper. "Keep it dry, okay?" He handed it to me.

"What's it for?" I peered through the flattened cylinder.

"It's got a secret message on it."

"Really?"

Hogan smiled. "Really."

"Goodbye, Ernie," Kinch called quietly from behind Hogan.

"I guess it is time to go," Hogan retreated.

"Cheers."

"_Au revior_."

"So long."

The truck started and the fellows disappeared into the night. You know, I've changed a lot since I first encountered those fellows. Why did I have to get all sad now? I scrubbed my eyes madly; I didn't want to wet the paper.

:: ::

As we traveled all that way, I had the opportunity to do that thing where the main character looks back, hand upon chin, and muses over the great lessons learned. Of course there was some pretty scary times, some pretty dumb things I did, and some really bad situations, but in the end, everything came out good. In the end, boy, did I have fun.

Of course, I didn't have much of a chance to reveal the secret message until we were at a house in England. Nobody wanted a kid playing with fire. And I didn't feel very spyish rocking in that submarine. Anyway, when all the grownups disappeared to unpack and what not, I got to the first lamp and held the paper over it. The message slowly appeared, except it wasn't just a message. All kinds of fancy swirls were browning over the paper, and a sort of fancy lettering, much more sharp than the lemon could have made. These fellows sure had tricks up their sleeves. I waited until it all appeared before I read it all, and I must say, it made me feel all warm inside. I took a framed photo from our bag, the one of me Mama had brought, and took out my picture and put the little paper inside behind the glass. I was kind of sad. I wished I could thank them. But like Hogan said, _we'll meet again._

This is to certify that  
>Ernst Gottlieb, Jr.<br>has thus successfully completed  
>the necessary instruction and derring-do<br>to be declared Honorary Member  
>of Papa Bear's Team of Saboteurs,<br>otherwise known as  
>Hogan's Heroes<p> 


End file.
